Eat your heart out
by Tobifan4444
Summary: "You were, admittedly, a good little hero. You were a good boy. Then you became jaded...horribly, horribly jaded...everyone loved you...nobody challenged the power you held in your grasp...but I will change that tonight."  One shot. Gore & rape


I did not write this. Muki did. w she doesn't think this story was good but I need to show her otherwise. I don't own anything. Not Hetalia not Dexter not even this story. I do own Muki however. u

_Those voices are chanting strange things again, comrades . . . odd things . . . things that make a strange, trembling sensation in my chest . . . an abnormality that I can't say I was comfortable with . . . or at all . . . if anything, I want it to /go away/ . . . but it won't leave despite my misgivings against its existence within me . . ._

_. . . I don't like this parasite, feeding off this unfamiliar sensation I never felt before-_

~oOo~

The audible sound of the loud, and very . . . very unamusingly, thought-disturbing bell interrupted my musings . . . again. I sense my eyes glaze over your figure . . . with . . . well, I doubt they would be the purest of intentions . . .

It was quite greedy, actually. I wanted to acquire more of that feeling . . . that feeling I had a vague dislike for . . . when I feel your gaze meet my unnatural, purple irises. I sensed an irritation within your aura, comrade. I wonder if I had the capacity for it . . . would I have been hurt by the distinct dislike lining your gaze?

"Braginski, do you have a problem?" You hiss towards my direction . . . you never liked this mask, did you? I would've chuckled had I not known the consequences of using my actual behavior traits . . . after all, it was the only way I remained free of imprisonment from a mental institution for so long. My guardian, General Winter, taught me well.

Then again, I did not really appeal to my mask either. It was such a hideous creation of mine . . . the mask of a quiet, shy . . . innocent creature . . . instantly being submissive to the will of others . . . I've never really argued for myself. Unfortunately, it has a drawback of-

"Braginski, are you paying attention?" You growl with an unhindered annoyance. I admit, I wasn't quite surprised by this action. I knew you well, comrade . . . and you quite disliked me. You see, my intentions are usually misunderstood . . . such as when I constantly followed this comrade . . . wanting to ask him to be friends . . .

But then the others shunned me because of my "weird" nature . . . and you were inclined to agree. Of course, I didn't give up . . .

. . . and I do admit I've horribly failed on acquiring such a friendship . . . failing quite horribly, to add to that. I didn't think by saying "become one with me?" would get me to be in this "creepy stalker" category others find me in . . . I do want to be comrades . . . very much so . . .

It's odd, that at the same time as despising this feeling, I try to gather it.

"IVAN!" You growl, though I continued to lose myself in my musings until-

SMACK!

Well . . . this was quite unexpected . . . completely unexpected, actually. I touched the side of my face lightly upon impact . . . the stinging sensation is still there . . . you looked at me . . . with an expression that said you were expecting me to cry. Comrade . . . honestly? How pathetic did you expect me to be? I do blame your comrades for this . . . seeing as I let them push me around quite well . . . so, instead, I smiled in your direction . . . emotionlessly, actually . . . and I think a slight deranged nature slipped in . . .

Hopefully there is nobody particularly good at reading facial expressions in the area.

I loved it, though . . . when you gapped towards my direction slightly in surprise . . . actually, I think you were more shocked by the forced innocence leaving my eyes . . .

. . . I better fix this. I repaired my mask instantly . . . and just like that, you assumed it was a trick of the light. You have quite simple logic, my Amerikan. I also admit your denial is impressive . . . denying this dark nature when you hit me . . . and still call yourself a "hero". I listened to my mind as it hummed strangely, making the usual reply. False emotion laced in these words:

"Ah . . . I'm sorry, comrade. I'll make sure to give you a faster answer in the future." Oh the fake smile! It's burning my face, I tell you. It hurts, it really, really does. And it's quite irritable. Very much so.

. . . But I must admit, this isn't the only reason I'm distant tonight.

You let out a superior smile grace such beautiful features. You were, admittedly, a good little hero when you came into the International World Academy . . . kind . . . helpful . . . a good boy. You were a good boy, a good child.

Then you became jaded . . . horribly, horribly jaded . . . everyone loved you . . . they submitted to you . . . nobody challenged the power you held in your grasp . . .

. . . but I will change after tonight . . . oh yes, tonight I will change . . . before the time comes that I complete the final stage of the plan . . .

You walk away from me. I let my eyes glaze over your rather refined buttocks as it sways away from my direction . . . but now is the time for the more important question:

Why is it that the stinging became slightly pleasurable, knowing it was your touch?

Comrades, even I admit that I'm a strange one.

*3:30 AM, Night, October 3, 2011*

Tonight is the night. And it's going to happen again, and again, and again . . .

. . . Afterwards, of course. Does the line sound familiar, comrades?

Ah . . . I admit I remain quite a fan of this "Dexter" series . . . though I can't inform anyone of my connection with such a . . . luring . . . character. Comrade Alfred is the same . . . actually, he is quite a fan . . .

I was quite lucky to see that you've never caught me eavesdropping among your conversations, beautiful jaded hero of mine.

Well . . . you see, I am quite a different monster compared to this Dexter character . . . actually, I'm complete opposite of him . . .

I see the target right on time . . . someone in the more richer, disconnected parts of the town compared to mine. Actually, this figure was the next town over compared to my current living location at such a boarding school. It's a good way to avoid drawing suspicion, by changing hunting locations.

I felt their eyes glaze at me . . . at the feral expression on their face . . .

. . . and I leap, pouncing on the figure before they dare to make a sound to notify the remaining pack of humans. It would be quite troublesome, though . . . so I lovingly removed their vocal cords with a sharp, loving piece of glass, though.

The figure had a pampered aura . . . rich . . . powerful . . . healthy . . . and quite delicious looking . . . a blond female, actually, with blue eyes . . .

I feel exhilaration tingle in the depths of my chest . . . but not from this recent kill.

I eagerly digested her internal organs . . Skin and all . . . making sure to remove her hair (which I admit, does not have good taste), gorging myself freely on her innards . . . making sure to remove the more toxic organs such as the stomach and lower intestines. I shall burn those once I finish my dinner, seeing as there is no use for such things.

I felt my imagination drift to you again . . . the epitome of innocence . . . to a jaded creature . . . something that . . . I could maybe . . . repair?

Ah . . . silly Ivan. You're not supposed to be the hero, do remember this. You can't be a cannibal and a hero at the same time . . . it simply doesn't work that way . . . you can't repair the broken if you are broken yourself . . .

I left the bones at the scene with ease . . . pacing the unnecessary intestines inside a few, hefty bags that would contain the organs. I did assure myself they would hold with repeated testing of such a thing. Bloody bones and blood would be the only remnants of my meal . . . bloody bones and blood.

I have a feeling Dexter would be quite amused by my antics, had he been real. Though I doubt he would approve of my consumption of the victim.

The streets are isolated . . . my hands are still tainted in blood . . . I'll have to whip the substance off before it dries . . . but on what?

It was then, I saw a piece of paper lying on the street . . . randomly I tell you. Then a fit of inspiration came to me! It was sudden . . . so sudden . . .

I dashed back towards the scene of the crime. The location likely won't be discovered till morning, after all. I swiped my hands into the mass of crimson liquid, and beneath the street lamp, unnoticed to the existence of the night, I began to write . . .

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sunflower. Don't fear the color on this paper, though it would be amusing for you to mistake this_ paint_ as blood. Do you find this amusing? I do. I do, very much so. I always feel my gaze on you . . . unwavering from you . . . I want you to smile today, you see. I have no bad intentions, though you may assume otherwise. I don't understand why . . . I probably never will . . . but . . . I want you to smile."

It was strange . . . it didn't even make sense to me. Before I knew it, though, I had created a small figurine . . . it was . . . impressive, to say the least. It was an origami form of a person . . . I recall comrade Yao teaching me how to create one before I transferred from Sothern Russia to this school in Europe. I took a pen, and, after burning my clothing, gloves, and the unnecessary organs, I began to draw under the light of the blaze.

Before I knew it, I had created something interesting . . . a well-drawn replica of Superman.

I noticed my comrade's obsession with such heroes . . . despite recently showing his abusive nature. He would probably praise to his action figures for repentance . . .

I chuckle to myself, picking the lock within the home of comrade Alfred with ease. If I wanted to become comrades with someone, I would eventually find out where they live. It wouldn't hurt by doing so ahead of time, da?

Dawn rose upon the tainted, burning light of morning that I've come to draw annoyance from. Believe it or not, it is quite tiring work. Luckily, make-up covers the dark circles with ease should it be applied correctly . . . though it would be more difficult to hide my irritation. Though while I was dealing with the annoyance of daily life . . .

. . . my gift layer innocently upon his table.

*The next day*

I admit . . . I haven't expected this. I hadn't expected such a reaction at all. You, though your friends slandered the gift and inquired if you were calling the police, continued to smile and said you would . . .

It was a lie.

You were smiling, comrade. Truly smiling! Such . . . such exhilaration . . . I-

"Hey, Braginski," You smile had begun to twist . . . twist into some sort of cruel formation . . . truly cruel . . .

I never felt my chest ache so much before . . . begging me to show you what I am . . . begging and begging for me to do so. It wants you to see . . . I want you to see what I am. That way, we could bask in each other's taint happily . . . even exchange internal organs!

I did not noticing your widening smirk, though . . . I didn't notice it at all.

_*Alfred's POV*_

Well, my awesome does have no bounds. Hello, I'm your hero of this story, Alfred F Jones. Did I mention how awesome I was? No? Well, it's . . . nearly beyond Chuck Norris. He can do anything, you know. I wouldn't want him to come out of nowhere with a roundhouse kick.

Did I mention I hate Mexicans, Cubans, Communists, and the British?

Mostly a curtain Communist in Britain . . .

. . . a curtain, cute, Russian communist.

Did . . . I just say "cute"? . . . Nah. He's a communist. Their all monsters in disguise I tell you! I can't even remember now, ahaha . . .

Anyway, Iggy shipped me off to this school because he wanted nothing to do with "that bloody, ungrateful git". You know what man, I'm sorry I crossed the line when I told you putting trackers in my pants was going just too far . . .

. . . or not. I bet you can practically HERE me huffing at this sarcasm.

Anyway, believe it or not, I was gazed at said object of dislike right now . . . smirking down at him.

You see . . . he . . . keeps following me around! Sometimes I'm worried if he knows where I live . . . but that's not why I'm upset. No, I dislike him because he was IGNORING me afterwards. After two years of following me . ..

. . . But I wouldn't admit it. I wouldn't admit I miss . . . no, I don't! Why? Because I'm the hero!

. . . . . . He only glanced at me once in five months . . . ONCE.

I don't want to be his friend. Communists brainwash and try to take over your mind by getting closer and closer until they eat your internal organs.

. . . five months.

I came up to you . . . a cruel smile on my face. You may have not cried before . . . but I'll make you cry for ignoring me!

. . . I wonder how beautiful you'd look with tears dripping down your face?

I smirk cruelly, my heroic reasoning not even registering this cruel thought. The hero was currently on a vacation.

"Hey, Braginski," I smiled, saying the name in perfect pronunciation . . . the name is so familiar on my tongue now . . .

. . . mm . . . the images that came with that know how to make a hero happy and-

I am not gay.

No, I am not.

Bad Alfred, heroes do NOT fantasize about those evil Communists! It would not make a hero proud! Or the one that made Superman for me . . .

. . . the . . . letter . . .

. . . I'll gladly smile for you. At least you give a damn. I'll smile the whole day until you see it. Fuck the others. Iggy, Kiku, Mattie . . . the others that started to avoid me. I'll smile the whole day until you see it, whoever the seven heroes you are.

I let the cruel smile stay on my features . . . hey, it DOES count as a type of smile.

Then . . . I saw a strange thing. You didn't flinch . . . you didn't look away . . . . . no . . . . Instead, you blushed.

It was . . . . . . Perfection. Glowing on those features . . . features I flawed with a bruise I placed there . . . MY mark on HIS skin . . .

. . . well, the hero could always take a side-kick . . . I could beat the Communist out of him if I have to.

Yep, that's what I'll do. I'll be a hero by saving him and making him _my_ sidekick at the same time.

But he still won't be my friend.

*Ivan's POV*

I was . . . shocked to say the least . . . astounded even at the next words that slipped out of your mouth . . .

"You're going to be my side-kick," You said firmly, leaving me no room to protest . . . before even considering the course of action, I had to reply:

"Comrade, are you out of your mind?"

With a smile of course . . . an actually joyful, happy smile.

Your gaze violates my body . . . I feel it tracing against the unusually warm features of my face . . . the joyful, happy smile with an unrestrained, twisted nature.

. . . Was that a pleasant shudder . . . or was it simply a trick of the light? I rubbed my eyes slightly, assuming this was so.

*Alfred's POV*

Those adorable features . . . it's damn lucky the ray of sun illuminated him just as did it! Damn, fuckin' cute I tell you . . .

I let my breath tickle his skin . . .

. . . always too cute. 

*Ivan's POV*

I felt a moist, gentle touch against my bruised cheek . . . glancing up for my eyes to widen suddenly in a mixture of surprised shock, staring at you purely with a shocked gaze.

Nothing in General Winter's advice of the human mind had told me of this.

You kissed . . .

. . . my cheek…

* A week later~!*

Since that strange incident . . . I strived to avoid you . . . to get away from this strange sensation building . . . crying out at me to grasp you . . . get closer . . . . Closer, it would call to me!

It hurts . . . it really does . . .

. . . I like this throbbing hurt, though . . .

. . . it means . . . I'm still human.

I didn't restrain on the letters, though . . . I wouldn't do that to you . . . no matter what, comrade, I just couldn't bring myself to leave you alone . . .

. . . though you've become more intent on me now . . . I worry that by maintaining this week mask, that you may do something you regret.

Comrade, your too precious for it . . .

. . . so . . . I must tell you tonight to avoid the greater threat . . . tell you those precious letters are composed by me . . . show you the real me . . .

. . . I admit I haven't come to this solution on my own, though. These social skills are too damaged for that. 

xXoXx

_  
>"I . . . don't know what to tell you, Ivan . . . but . . . I can tell you this. The more you hide what you are . . . the lonelier you're going to become. We . . . deserted you here, little brother. It's not because we don't deserve you . . . but we don't WANT you. And before you say anything . . . yes, I do know your gaze is emotionless right now . . . but please listen! I'm glad . . . I'm glad you can confide in me . . . but I'll only be helping you as a sister . . . not that I WANT to . . . after . . . . . after what you did . . . to Natalia . . . I-"<em>

_"She wanted to become one," I replied._

_"Y-you ate her . . . ATE HER."_

_I felt nothing from the trembling on the other end . . ._

_"Da, and she gave me indigestion afterwards."_

_It was then, I felt that strange loudness humans tend to increase in around me._

_"ALRIGHT!" A frail, wounded voice (though I didn't know/understand it) screamed into the phone line, "JUST BE YOUR /REAL/ SELF, THEN! I BET /THAT/ WILL WORK!"_

_And then it sounded like the phone was slammed . . ._

xXoXx

. . . Hence, why I am standing in this dark alley . . . alone. Awaiting my comrade.

Sometimes, I worry about the large amounts of naivety I possess.

But then again . . . I am not quite as defenseless as I appear . . . I would happily consume any threat to my existence . . . disposal may be a problem . . . but I could clean him out of the trash . . .

. . . I do despise wasting food, though . . .

. . . Hmm . . .

*Alfred's POV*

. . . Those words . . . warming words . . . objects of heroes, even HAMBURGERS fully prepared for BREAKFEST . . . from McDonalds (I thought that was impossible!), and . . . just . . . everything you did . . .

. . . "my sunflower" . . . that's what you keep calling me.

You always comment on my smile. Telling me how beautiful it is . . . telling me that you will always stand beside me . . . all in that red paint . . .

. . . reminds me of ketchup . . .

. . . speaking of which, I think you made a letter in one once, man.

Which was not cool, since it stained my shirt. It was a CHUCK NORRIS shirt. I can't help but be upset! It's the only American thing I have in this native, evil land of damned British!

Those letters . . .

. . . but . . . it seems, though, that . . . COMMUNIST BASTARD . . . that ignored me the ENTIRE week decided to talk to me.

Alone.

In an ally.

And you know what? He . . . shouldn't have . .. Shouldn't have left me alone like that . . .

. . . so . . . I'm going to punish that Communist bastard! He was planning it, I tell you! Planning this all along! He wanted to get me worked up . . . and just when I got attached . . .

. . . GEH! GET. OUT. OF. MY. HEAD!

You . . . you should be punished . . . with heroic justice . . . for . . . hurting me like that.

. . . No . . . you WILL be punished . . .

I felt a small smile take hold of my features . . . after all . . . you could've done so much . . . you could've. . . could've just said . . .

. . . but now I won't take "no" for an answer.

I can't take it.

And, as I approached you, I felt something inside shatter for the first time. 

*Ivan's POV*

I saw you approach . . . a childish smile forming on my features as you growl towards yourself . . .

. . . not after what I have to say . . .

. . . and for the first time . . . I was about to let the mask peel off my features until-

You pinned me to the wall . . .

. . . violating me before I could say a single word . . . angry tears forming in your eyes . . .

. . . a shocked shudder made its way into my body with surprised gasps as you violated me . . .

. . . I couldn't hinder the few moans escaping my body . . . obviously, by the smirk, you were quite happy to discover my sensitivity . . . that same . . . cruel expression.

It was too late.

Dirty words were murmured . . . and a painful penetration . . . my face was bruised . . . worse than before. Obviously, I was shoved into the ground more than once . . . you licked nearly every part of my body . . . I shuddered pleasantly . . . curling in my rather comforting pool of blood . . .

You mistake it as pain, of course . . .

. . . and you laugh . . . laugh . . . calling me such dirty words . . .

. . . but they don't reach me.

This . . . violating, burning stinging . . . it hurts . . .

. . . tears . . . their burning into my eyes . . . unused eyes . . .

. . . for the first time . . . the first time in a long time . . .

It hurts . . . it truly does . . .

. . . but . . . this warmth . . . the warmth I had that surprised the pain . . . it . . . remained . . . made it less painful . . .

. . . it would've made it partially pleasant had you not pinned me into the ground with needles . . .

. . . your smirking above me, leering over my used form beneath you . . . I simply close my eyes . . . unwilling to face the image until-

SLAP!

"Don't you DARE play dead after ignoring me like that, you stupid Communist BASTARD!" . . . Hysterical . . . insane . . .

. . . that is what I heard.

I felt my eyes glaze up at you . . . meeting yours directly with a soft . . . comforting smile.

You recoil in shock at this action . . . and I finally understand . . .

. . . you were lonely as well, comrade.

I would've eaten a comrade I cared dearly for had they done such a thing to me.

I am, truly, a disturbed child sometimes.

I let out a chuckle . . . before growing silent . . . it seems you were still stunned by the COMFORTING smile . . . you should really learn to expect the unexpected, da?

"Insanity: I keep sending you these letters over and over again . . . trying to discover these emotions that lay within . . ."

A direct quote from my latest letter of creation.

You collapsed to your knees . . . I sense the disbelief . . .

. . . minutes of silence go by . . .

. . . I'm quite cold.

"I'm not a hero."

A broken murmur.

But . . . at least you finally realized this, da?

I smiled . . . and felt my eye lids grow heavy . . . falling closed against them . . .

. . . no, I'm not dead.

Honestly, comrades, a death by rape would only help this pathetic image of me and keep myself from revealing my true self.

I did that with him . . . with Alfred. Brutalities, I talked about it with ease . . . my history . . . the loneliness . . . the need to get closer to him . . .

. . . . . it just . . . makes me . . . want to . . .

. . . eat him . . .

Your warmth surrounds my body . . . YOUR warmth . . . so close . . . so warm . . . I love it . . . I love the way your naked warmth is surrounding my body . . .

. . . but I'm still hungry.

. . . so, logically, I couldn't resist . . . but lick you, lick you all over~ . . .

You were shocked, of course . . . until I got to the core . . .

. . . and ate your heart.

And then I died of blood loss in the manner I did not quite wish too. Pathetic, I tell you . . . but . . . at least I have his heart now . . .

. . . oh, look, pretty flames at the end of the dark tunnel~ . . .

You're not here, though . . . I didn't think you would be . . . after all, I've noticed it . . . you couldn't hide those urges directed at me . . . you wanted something so badly I didn't give you in time . . .

. . . and I was determined to make up for it.

Now . . . how the _Hell_ was I going to get up in Paradise?

A/N:

Please Please Please review. Help me try to convince Muki to get her own FF account. Lots of encouraging reviews wanted \o/ 3


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